


If it really was true love, it will find a way to come back

by Bella Roido (Symolyn)



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game), Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-09-20 06:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17017680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symolyn/pseuds/Bella%20Roido
Summary: After Theron's act as a double agent in the order of Zildrog, he has returned to the Alliance base on Odessen. Although the Alliance work is quickly picked up again, his relationship with Commander Bellar'oido is not so easily rekindled. Can they find their way back to each other?(a prolonged aftermath of the Nathema Conspiracy)





	1. Recovering on Odessen

**Author's Note:**

> Rating might go up as chapters progress.
> 
> (Part of overcoming my writer's block. Constructive feedback only, please)

A groan escaped his lips before his eyes even opened. For all his spy training and having learned not to make himself known before he was completely aware of his surroundings, he was doing a pretty lousy job. But the throbbing pain in his chest area, spreading out to all parts of his body, was too much to keep in. The involuntary noise escaped him before he had the wits to stop it.

Theron quickly opened his eyes, trying to focus his vision. For a second he was sure that he was in the hospital wing of the Zildrog headquarters. If that was true, he had to be ready for questioning and play the role of defected Alliance spy. His eyes returned blurry feedback as his vision struggled to focus, and he was starting to be restless in impatience. 

“Calm down, you’ll hurt yourself,” came a clear, accented voice that could belong to no one but Lana Beniko. Theron’s shoulders relaxed, which allowed his eyes to finally focus. Blonde hair and yellow eyes came into view. Lana sat hunched over a datapad, reading what looked like an extensive list of reports, but her eyes were fixed on him. Her grey armor was exchanged for a green tunic which looked vaguely familiar, the color bringing out her eyes in a sparkling fashion, although her face looked tired and worn.

“Back to green then?” Theron remarked, eyes flicking to her outfit.

Lana raised an eyebrow. “That hardly seems like the most pressing issue for you to comment on at this moment,” she replied. “But yes, back to green.” 

Theron knew it was the Commander’s favorite color on her friend. Maybe that was why Lana had opted for the old piece of clothing at this time. Bella must be feeling down. It was at times like that Lana would do anything in her power to support the Twi’lek emotionally.

“How is she?” he asked, his voice softer. He didn’t bother to hide the worry in his tone. 

Lana, following his trail of thought without difficulty, looked away from his gaze and back at the datapad. “The commander is very busy,” she said.

Theron took a moment to process what that meant. Bella had never been too busy to make time for him before. Especially when he was injured. When he was being tortured by Revan’s lackeys she had dropped everything to rush to him. Being impaled by a light sword didn’t seem to qualify as less of a life threatening situation in his eyes. 

“How long have I been out?” he asked. 

“Two days,” Lana replied. “Doc only got you of the kolto tank an hour ago.” 

Theron shifted on the hospital bed and felt the pang of a closing wound shoot through his body. It felt like a sharp stone in the middle of his chest. But the growing pain in his heart was threatening to hurt worse than the actual wound of Vinn’s lightsaber.

“Has she come to see me at all?” he dared ask the question at the risk of sounding needy. Lana saw straight through him anyway.

“The commander is very busy,” Lana repeated, tugging away her datapad as a sign that she was leaving the conversation. “And you have a lot to make up for.” 

She then walked out of Odessen’s hospital wing, leaving Theron to think about all the things he had to explain to his Commander, girlfriend and soulmate.


	2. Communication is key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellar'oido has never been the strongest at communication. Neither is Theron Shan. Wonder how that will work out between them. (edited the in-game conversation post-Nathema, because I never liked it)

“You know, it will be nice to take a break from ruling the galaxy,” Theron heard Lana say as she leaned against the railing overlooking the hangar. He couldn’t see Bella’s reaction; she had her back towards him. But her shoulders were relaxed and she was casually leaning against the railing as well. Bella had of course been complaining about needing a vacation from the moment she had been freed from carbonite. But he had never been able to give her anything like a day off, except show his support through a whole-hearted agreement that ‘vacation’ was a very nice word.

He limped towards them, trying his best to hide the sound of his boots on the steel steps. Every step sent a shoot of pain from his chest to his shoulders and he started to believe Doc’s advice not to leave the hospital wing for a few more days. But sitting still would send his mind into a frenzy and it was already frenzied enough from months of isolation in the order of Zildrog. He had to talk to _her_. She had not come to see him once during recovery. Any more delay of conversation could only make her think worse of him.

He took a deep breath, which hurt his chest again, and stepped forward. “Like you’ve ever taken a break in your life,” he said in his most cheerful voice. 

“Theron!” Lana exclaimed in a reproaching voice. He knew she disapproved of him already being out of the hospital wing. Alliance Commander Bellar’oido quickly turned to him. Her face took him aback. There was hesitation and anger in her eyes. The characteristic stubbornness that he knew from her seeped into her body language: her shoulders tensed up, she folded her arms and her face was all resistance. 

And something more. Hurt, showing in the fine creases of her forehead. She had tugged it away deep, like he had seen her do so many times even before she was captured in carbonite for five long years. 

Oh boy, he thought, this was going to be harder than anticipated.

“Its uh… It’s been a while since I was last in this room. It’s good to be back,” he tried to break the ice, less confidently now. She glared at him but didn’t reply. 

“Look, I know I’ve put you through hell. I was reckless and stupid and it almost cost us everything. I saw the bounty you put on me. I know I screwed up. But I did it to protect you and the Alliance. And… if you’ll have me, I’ll work hard to earn a place at your side.” 

He stopped for a breath through his pained lungs and for a moment to assess the Commander’s reaction. What he saw didn’t give him much confidence. She was tugging at the mask covering her mouth and nose, pulling it higher up underneath her eyes. Not a good sign, Theron thought. He wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers, but it would be a while before she let him see that again. If she would ever open up to him again at all. 

“So…” he continued, outstretching his right hand, reaching out for some form of contact with her, although a lot less intimate than they had been a few months ago. “ What do you say, are we still a team?”

She waited long, too long, with her reply. When it came, the words were a relief, but hardly as much as Theron would have wanted. 

“If you’d been kicked from the team, you would have been off Odessen days ago.”

But she refused to take his hand and accept his touch. Her arms remained folded across her chest. His eyes focused on that area and he could see a fresh pink burn scar run across her collarbone. That was new. He had to repress his old instinct to immediately go to her side, assess the physical damage done and the impact on her emotional state. She caught his eyes on her chest, followed his line of sight to the scar and frowned deeply. So he quickly looked up at her face again.

In the mean time, Lana assessed the situation with sharp eyes and came up with an instant strategy, typical for her position and work ethic. 

“I’ll give you some privacy,” she said, and started to move away.

“That won’t be necessary. I can debrief agent Shan with you present,” the Commander said quickly, causing Lana to stop in her tracks and Theron’s breath to hitch in his throat.

“Since you seem to feel well enough to be up, there is much you can do. I’ve had Lana adjust your clearance levels,” Bella addressed Theron with a cold voice, looking straight at him with her fierce purple eyes. “Your belongings are in room B43. Lana will send you a list of reports to follow up on.”

A look at Lana, who nodded in Theron’s direction. It was a nod filled with pity and frustration, but Theron was more concerned with the hard look on Bella’s face.

“Bell, I was hoping we cou-”

“I’m very busy, my apologies,” she said, effectively cutting him off and creating a polite distance between them that she apparently desired. 

“Welcome back to the Alliance, agent Shan.”


	3. Reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellar'oido is pretty stubborn but who can resist our favorite spy?

Someone had been slicing into the main docking systems. Theron frowned as his practiced fingers slid over the data pad that was lying in his lap. He was lounging on the hard sofa in his new (or actually his old) sleeping quarters. The one that was his before he had moved into the Commander’s spacious room. That room had everything he needed to be comfortable; A good bed, proper heating, clutter on every surface (the Commander, if anything, was definitely a hoarder of trinkets), and most of all it had _her_.

This room was small, damp, the heating kept falling out, the bed was narrow. There was only a couch and a table to form a living room, and a steel wardrobe to contain his clothes. The couch was too hard to be absolutely comfortable. After two minutes of tossing and turning for a good sitting position, Theron had given up and simply picked up the data pad to do some work.

Such terribly _stimulating_ work it was… Without spending more than half a minute on the case of the so-called ‘intruder’ that Lana had him investigate, Theron had already seen the slicing process had stranded before the second firewall. The whole 'attack' had made no more than a small dent in the operating system, easily restored. Thanks to Theron’s initial work in setting up the mainframe of the entire Odessen network, the system had even already repaired itself. 

The former SIS agent spend another maximum of ten seconds considering who could have tried to slice into the docking systems in the first place. The Alliance had its fair share of small enemies beside the big one that he had done his best to eliminate. The impact of this particular work was so small, it was almost a prank. Nothing to draw his attention, and especially not the attention of his Commander. Theron sighed, slumped lower onto the sofa and threw the data pad away from him.

He was so _bored_.

Since he was back on duty in the Alliance, Lana had been giving him the most menial tasks, which were far below his skill level. He was done with what she would announce as a full day’s work in less than an hour and was forced to sit on his hands and do nothing for the remainder of the time. The look on Beniko’s face when she was giving him his new responsibilities could almost be called sympathetic, which convinced him immediately that she was acting on the Commander’s orders. She had adjusted his clearance levels as well, so Theron was shut out of most interesting Alliance reports. Not even a backlog of semi-relevant e-mails to work through. The message icon on his data pad blinked a devastatingly ‘zero unread messages’.

Theron groaned out loud in frustration.

It would be so easy to slice into the system and adjust his clearance level back to the usual standard. He would be able to hide his tracks without trouble. No one would even notice he had done it. He could probably even guess Lana’s pass code if he gave it a moment's thought.

But that would mean harming the Commander’s trust again. And he was already short in the trust department.

If only he would be able to leave Odessen, work with his contacts to find out information about enemies of the Alliance. He would be so much more valuable than sitting here, expelling pranksters and amateur slicers from an already perfectly protected operating system.

But that would mean leaving her again. Her face when he left her the first time on Umbara still haunted his dreams, made him wake up in sweat and grope the empty bed for the comfort of her soft red skin. He would never leave her again until she sent him away herself. 

With a deep sigh, he dragged himself from the sofa, put on his red jacket and ruffled a hand through his unkempt, unwashed hair. He probably looked like shit. He definitely felt like shit. The dullness of his daily work was only a tiny part of what was weighing on him. The only way he had ever handled a broken heart was by working. Now he couldn’t even use that as a way to drown his sorrows. He was about ready to drink himself into a stupor. He could probably still do the tasks he was given adequately after a couple of whiskeys. But it reminded him of the time he thought she had died, eight very long years ago.  

He shuddered at the memory and quickly stretched his arms, gathered up the data pad and escaped the damp room.

Theron wandered the base for a while without any clear direction. It was not even noon yet and everybody in the Odessen headquarters was busy doing _something_. Some of them gave him sceptical looks as they passed him by. Not everybody had forgiven him for his stunt at the Order of Zildrog. The Commander’s behavior towards him didn’t help to warm attitudes. Although accepting him back in the Alliance, she treated him like a traitor who had fallen from grace and by her example, so did they.

Thinking of her, his body betrayed him and he was led to a small office space in the far east corridor. It was her favorite place to work, because it was far from the war room (a.k.a. Lana Beniko) and slightly out of the common way. She preferred it to her private quarters, which she said were for fun only (always said with that undertone of a _challenge_ towards him). The corner of Theron’s mouth curled up in a smirk as he thought of it.

Automatically, he tried to access her schedule through his implants, but the request was unsurprisingly denied. Still, he had a good hunch she would be in there. The door of the office was open; she always liked everything to be out in the open, no secrets. Call it the Force, or a very deep love, or simply a general idea of her daily schedule. But when he found her bend over a data pad, he wasn’t surprised.

She had her back towards him, which gave him some time to admire her from behind. The beautiful red lekku which fell down almost to her waist. The sharp, black stripes contrasting the rare Lethan color of her skin (although she insisted she was rather more pink than red). Her petite waist, strapped tight in a leather top and jacket, held together by a belt which fell over her hips. _Those hips!_ She sat with one leg propped up underneath her, trying to be comfortable on the backless stool that formed the only furniture in this tiny rundown office space. Her shoulders were hunched as she leaned over the desk, elbows on the table, flicking through large pieces of text on a blue screen which lit up the side of her face in a purple glow.

Her eyes were moving fast, but her entire body was oozing boredom. He immediately recognized the writing as reports. She had never been a fan of reports. Anything written down really, it lost her focus right away. As one of the most famous smugglers of her time, she surprisingly never held much of an administration. She preferred to go with the flow. Sometimes that meant losing a shipment or miscounting a payment. Whatever trouble was caused by her lack of structure, it was never enough to convince her that sometimes it was good to put things in writing. No matter how much had changed in the past years, that at least had been her unwavering conviction.

Theron had always helped her get through the immeasurable pile of reports that she received as Alliance Commander, reading them all and summarizing the most important pieces of content verbally. She would be leaning against him on the couch in their quarters, something resting her head on his lap. It was the one exception to doing work in their living quarters, because it was basically him doing all the work. Sorting through the messages and reports this way took him longer than reading them by himself, but he didn’t mind. It made her life easier and gave them a chance to spend more time together.

The Commander let out a deep sigh and rested her head in her arms. Her eyes stopped moving from left to right and Theron recognized her body language as a clear frustration at not understanding something. It always panicked her a little bit when she did not understand a report. Made her feel inferior. A funny thing really. She could face down an entire squad of Horizon Guard or boast to a full hall about how great she was, but reading a difficult report would send her into a panic.

Not wishing to let her suffer longer than necessary, but still slightly hesitant at her reaction, Theron stepped closer. He made sure to let her know he was there by stepping loudly, scraping his boot on the floor, but she didn’t take the time to look up. He knew Bella had heard him though: she sat up a little more and straightened her shoulders, sliding into the mask she had adopted before him for days, since he had come back to the Alliance.

“Tough reading?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound as casual as possible, although his heart was racing. It was the first time they were alone in a room together since that cold speech she gave him on his first day out of the medical bay.

She gave him a disinterested “hmm” and did not look up from her work.

“Need any help with those reports?” he tried again. He was standing next to her now, only an arm's length away. He could see the purple bags under her eyes and the slight tremble in her fingers as she scrolled through the report without reading it. Something sharp pressed into his heart seeing her exhausted and stressed.

This time she did look up. Her deep purple eyes sprouted irritation, but the anger from days before was gone. It was replaced by something bitter, which was much worse knowing it was directed at him.

“No, thank you,” came the reply. “I’ve been doing it myself for six months. I’m used to it by now.”

The accusation in her voice was not hidden by the polite words that cloaked her speech. He of all people knew she could swear like a space farmer. To keep her distance, she was being polite. Theron wished she would just shout at him. That would at least give him something to work with, some previously discovered territory. They used to argue almost daily about the smallest of things, but it would always end up well. All or nothing, he supposed, and decided to prod her a little bit.

“May be so, but it doesn't look like you're doing a very nice job,” he mumbled in an off-hand sort of way.

Little sparks of fire shot at him from her eyes. He could see she tried to maintain her disinterested attitude, but her irritation was flaring. Theron could always count on her ego to come to his aid.

“What do you mean?” she spat at him.

“Well, for one,” he said, casually turning around so that he faced her, and leaning against the desk next to her, “you just archived a message from the new Zakuulian prime minister. Wonder what he will think if he gets no reply from the Alliance Commander to his question about… the delivery of supplies to the outer regions, wasn’t it?” He had caught a quick glance at the message, enough to gather some of the contents.

“Damnit,” Bellar’oido cursed under her breath, and frantically started tapping the data pad to recover the archived message.

“Need any help?” Theron said with his most charming smirk.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Bella threw back. “Some contribution to make to _my_ Alliance so you can earn back your place?”

“You gave me kiddy jobs. I did them while I slept,” he exaggerated, hopeful at his former girlfriend’s increasing tells of irritation at him. Her deep red flushed cheeks, the tense shoulders, the subtle twitching of her right tentacle. He leaned closer to her, almost touching her arm with his hip. She seemed to be aware of the closeness as well, but refused to back away and increase the distance.

Theron brought his face closer to hers, hovering over her because she was sitting down and was quite a lot smaller than him. She held her breath, slightly opening her mouth and for a split second Theron thought she was going to kiss him. His breathing hitched at the idea, but he recovered himself to finish his mission of enticing her.

“And I think I’ve earned a pretty good place right here,” he said, his voice husky. She was so close he could smell her breath, feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her wide eyes were starting straight into his.

The moment did not last. Too soon, realization dawned on the Commander. She blinked those big eyes, looked down at the data pad and stabbed an impatient finger at it.

“You do it then,” she said, pushing the device towards him.

Inside, he was beaming. But he wouldn’t be half the spy he was if he couldn’t apply some spy training to the complicated relationship he was currently in. So he maintained a stoic front and calmly took the data pad from the desk. He considered making some smart noises, maybe an intelligent “let’s see”, but Bella was staring at him so intently that he couldn’t make himself do it. The lost message was recovered in two clicks.

“There you go,” he said, handing the device back to her.

She didn’t take it, and for a moment her mind seemed full with tired contemplation. She had aged, Theron realized as he looked back at her face. Of course she’d grown older in the years since they first met. And being frozen in carbonite while slowly being poisoned to death did not help much with her complexion either. Now she had aged for a different reason. She was still stunning, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but the lines around her eyes had creased deeper, the frown on her forehead did not seem to go away. She had aged from heartache, he realized. And she was aging from it still…

He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , to alleviate some of that emotional pain, when they were interrupted by a sharp sound from the com that was laying on the desk in front of Bellar’oido.

“Commander, the Zakuul guild leaders have arrived for your conference,” Lana’s voice sounded shrilly through the small space.

The tension between them was instantly broken. Bella sighed and stood up, but still did not take the data pad from Theron.

“Can you just…” she hesitated, a new flush coloring her red cheeks a deeper shade of crimson. Her eyes met his as she started to walk away. “Just send me a summary of what I should know.”

He smiled. “Of course, Commander.”

“Thank you, agent Shan.”


	4. Fragmented

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron talks to Lana about the Commander's feelings and it turns out Lana has feelings too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling soppy today, sorry for the mush.

The evenings were the worst. Those times when he was too tired to work and too tired to sleep, when the thoughts were running through his head and he could find no relief. These used to be the times of the day where they would seek each other’s company. He to unwind from a long day of chasing leads and shadows, she for distraction from the ghost in her head. They wouldn’t always start with sex. Often they just talked, about life, their worst and best experiences, their friends and family. Personal stuff. Bonding stuff. It usually ended in sex though.

Theron smiled. His body felt tingles already at the thought. He knew she still wanted him. The tension that lingered in a room when they had both been in it made that unmistakably clear. Bella was denying him because the trust was lost. Or maybe it was resentment?

She had slowly been showing signs that some form of trust was coming back, allowing him to work through her reports. He didn’t communicate them to her verbally as they used to do, but he would send her a summary, and she would always reply with a polite “Thank you, Agent Shan” and a question about something in his summary that she didn’t understand. It was the most personal form of communication they had at this point, so he treasured it with all his heart, and tried to sneak in personal questions in their virtual conversations wherever he could.

Until he was sure of the reason behind her continuing denial of him though, he could not do anything to restore it completely. While doing his daily work for the Alliance, he tried to talk to as many people as possible, as discreetly as possible, piecing together the time after he had betrayed her on Umbara, to find out what she had felt.

Theron shrugged and splashed cold water from the tap in his face. He wasn’t sleeping anyway, might as well do some more digging now. Pulling on the comfortable red jacket, he made his way to the cantina where, even this late in the evening, there was sure to still be people.

He hadn’t counted on passing the blonde Sith on his way there. They came across each other so very few times now that Theron’s duties had moved him away from the war room. The last time they had spoken in private had been weeks ago.

Lana stopped in her tracks, yellow eyes meeting his. “Where are you going?” she asked with a suspicious undertone.

“Cantina,” he grunted.

A blonde eyebrow raised. “Have fun,” Lana said dryly, and started walking away in her usual brisk manner.

“Lana, wait,” Theron said, grasping at the chance to finally have a conversation with the one person who would have the best insight into Bella’s feelings. “How is she? And don’t say busy.”

The Sith didn’t immediately reply, but stepped closer to him and sighed. “I understand why you did what you did, Theron. I was hurt that you didn’t confide in me, though I understand your reasons for not doing so. If I felt hurt, imagine how she was feeling.”

Theron’s heart contracted painfully at Lana’s words, but the Sith did not pity him and continued to give him the information he so desperately craved but did not want to hear.

“She put up walls around her heart the moment we left Umbara. We never spoke about it, and she guards her feelings so well I cannot sense them anymore. So I can’t tell you how she is. I can tell you how I am though. I considered you my friend, Theron. When you betrayed the Commander, you betrayed me too. I lost two friends that night.”

Theron’s hands shook at the realization he had never once asked Lana how she was doing. He had been so focused on Bella and on himself, that he ignored all other impact his double role had had on other friends in the Alliance.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice dry.

“I have forgiven you,” said Lana, “because sometimes smaller sacrifices have to be made for a larger goal.”

Flashes of torture by Revan’s lackeys drift through Theron’s vision. Yes, she would understand. And she wouldn’t resent him for it. They were even now, he guessed, for that little thing on Rishi.

“The Alliance is failing, Theron. We’re working hard to install a democracy on Zakuul, but the Republic and the Empire are at each other’s throat. Soon we will have to pick a side. Many of our allies fought for one side or the other in the past. If we do pick a side, they will have to follow her and possibly fight against their old homes…”

“You don’t believe they will follow her that far,” Theron said, reading the conclusion on Lana’s clear features.

“Not the way she is now. Not like she’s been since you left. She’s pretending to be strong and unconsciously they see through it. If, or when it comes to a war, we will be fragmented.”

“What can I do?” Theron said, but already knew the answer.

“Stop the pretense. Make her real again,” Lana said, then fell into deep thought and walked away from him without saying goodbye.

When Vette had died, Bella told him the blue Twi’lek had made her feel connected to who she was. That was the reason he had noticed such a change when Vette had joined the Alliance in the way Bella and he loved each other. She was still challenging, daring, playful, everything that made her the famous hotshot smuggler. But there was a deeper connection, a realization that neither of them would ever love anyone else as much as they loved each other. She had lowered the walls around her heart then. Could he do it again, without Vette’s help?


	5. Common denominator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron meets Corso. A conversation between two exes.

The moment Theron stepped into the cantina he already had doubts about this decision. The tossing and turning which had kept him up all night after the conversation with Lana had become too much for him. The cantina was supposed to bring much-needed relief, possibly a good strong night cap to knock him out until it was a proper time to be awake. 

He had been hoping to find the place completely abandoned for him to enjoy his whiskey in silence, maybe do some work on the handheld console he brought. But in the base on Odessen life never conformed to normal standards and there were always a handful of people working or drinking during the night. The place was almost empty, the music was off and the bar was unlit. Not entirely a surprise, considering it was 3 in the morning. But there was one person who drew his attention and instantly made him regret the choice of going to the cantina: _Corso Riggs_. He was lounging on a couch in a dimly lit corner of the cantina, drinking something red, dreadlocks hanging on his shoulders. 

Theron never understood dreadlocks, but Bella had always proclaimed them to be wildly attractive. So much so that he had for a time considered growing his hair out as well. Unconsciously, his hand traveled up to the crest that was now lying flat, fingers touching the short hairs on the side of his head from where he had shaved it. He would do it if it meant getting her back, but only for that reason, he thought to himself.

It wasn’t that Theron didn’t like Corso. On Manaan and Rishi, Corso had followed Bella everywhere, so Theron had seen him often. He thought the boy (or _man_ he corrected himself) to be kind, funny and optimistic. This he guessed was also what was attractive to Bella. And therein lay the problem. Whenever Corso and Theron talked together, the latter made sure the conversation was steered away from any mention of the Commander, although she was their one common denominator. She had dumped Corso for Theron, after all, and it was uncomfortable for him to talk to Corso with that knowledge.

Theron made to turn around and instead do some work in his own room until morning, but the man had already spotted him. A nod with his head and leaving was out of the question. So he sighed inwardly, poured his own drink at the abandoned bar and joined the smuggler on the couch. 

“Up late,” Corso said, wrapping both hands around his glass. 

“Yup,” Theron said awkwardly. Then gestured at the red liquid in the glass. “Never took you for a wine guy.” 

“It’s a Kessel Run,” Corso replied, looking only slightly smug. _Nice_ , Theron couldn’t help but think at the classy drink, which was a tricky one to mix.

“So what are you working on?” Theron asked, sipping his own clear whiskey too quickly. Work, talk about work, it’s a safe thing to discuss. 

“Supply runs, mostly. Just got back from one, hence the late. Keeping up with Hylo’s contacts as well. She’s a good one.”

“Yeah?” Theron asked, trying with all his might to keep the conversation at this superficial level.

“Yeah, not like the Captain, of course. Thought I’d see more of her when I joined. It’s different, her being Commander and all. So many people to take up her time. Used to just be her crew.” There was a note of disappointment in his voice. 

Theron shifted in his seat. Too soon, the conversation was turning to the subject of her way too soon. 

“Of course there’s been so much to distract her lately,” Corso continued, apparently hell-bent on making Theron’s night as uncomfortable as possible. There was significant stress on the “lately”. 

“It’s a lot of pressure to deal with all the politics,” he replied vaguely. Another big sip of the whiskey. He didn’t taste much but felt the burning sensation as it traveled down his throat.

“More pressure when the people she- Ah, whatever, it’s not my problem anymore,” Corso said, slumping in his seat and looking Theron in the eye. “I don’t blame you for what you did. You probably had a solid reason or she wouldn’t have let you come back. But I was angry at you for hurting her. She came to me for comfort after you left. Thought you should know.” 

A hot spike was shoved in Theron’s throat at the smuggler’s words. He knew how fond Bella was of Corso. Even after she ended things with him on Rishi, because she had kissed Theron, he still felt a strong connection between the two. So strong that Corso had not left Bella’s crew, but continued to work for her, even if she chose to ask Risha to accompany her on missions instead of him. Was it really that difficult to imagine that she would go back to him after Theron had trampled on her heart? He could only wonder why the thought had not occurred to him before.

“Did… anything happen?” he asked carefully, hiding his face behind the whiskey glass.

Corso looked at him with an expression that seemed to contain pity. It made the hot spike in Theron's throat thicken. “She wanted to, but I refused,” Corso finally said. “I still care about her. And I’ve never found anyone like her. But I want to be her first choice, not a rebound. I think… I deserve that much.” 

Relief flooded the spy. “You’re a good man, Corso,” he said, and he actually meant it. The boy kept showing character at every occasion. Had they not both been dating the same woman, they could have been close friends. 

“Ah, I’m alright,” Corso replied, downing the rest of his Kessel drink. “And although it’s a _very_ long time ago, I still know what it feels like to be dumped by the most beautiful woman in the galaxy. Gotta stick together, us mugs,” he added with a slightly bitter smirk.

“ _Dumped?_ ” Theron repeated, the word tasting strange on his tongue. 

“Dumped, left, broken off, refused, whatever you want to call it,” Corso replied, stretching in his seat, and then looking at Theron funnily. “She has dumped you, hasn’t she?”

“I don’t really know. We… haven’t discussed it,” Theron said, a flush creeping up to his cheeks. Neither of them officially put the word on it. Now he wondered if that was how she saw it. It was a terrifying thought.

“Oh, uhm, I assumed, because-” Corso hesitated, getting ready to stand up and leave. “You know... she’s been sleeping with Torian, right?”

The whiskey glass slipped from Theron's sweaty hands, bounced on the table, spilling brown liquid everywhere, then fell into pieces on the floor beneath it.

"What?"


	6. This doesn't change anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron goes to Bella's room to find out what is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are steaming up! I'm not used to writing this stuff, please let me know what you think.

The Mandalorian left the Commander’s quarters on tip-toes, if it was possible for a Mandalorian to walk in that way, since even their day-armor was heavy. Nevertheless, there was an air of secrecy in the way Torian walked away from the room in which _his_ Commander slept. White-hot anger flared up inside Theron as he looked at it from the end of the corridor. He had been lounging against the wall there for hours after his conversation with Corso, unable to get any rest. Then he'd decided to guard outside the Commander's quarters to see if Corso had been telling the truth or just relaying a rumor. Unfortunately, it seemed to be true. The Mandalorian was definitely involved with Bellar’oido.

So many questions arose that Corso had been unwilling to answer. How long had it been happening? How often did Torian go to her quarters? Did she love him? Theron knew there had been an attraction between Bella and Torian when they first met on Darvannis. Bella had come back and not been able to shut up about that handsome, blonde Mandalorian. Theron was used to it, her outspoken fancy for anyone good-looking, and he had learned not to take it too seriously. She would never act on it while she was with him. 

_Unless she found someone she actually liked better_ , a little devil whispered in his ear. Hadn’t she done exactly the same thing to Corso when she met Theron? _That was different, we are the real deal_ , he told the little devil in his mind, but it just cackled in contempt. _Different how?_

Anger flaring, he stamped to the entrance when Torian was gone, aggressively slapping the call button.

The door opened to reveal the Commander, wearing a comfortable brown and white jacket over a grey top. It showed off her figure perfectly, her small waist and small breasts, the beautiful curve to her hips. It drove him completely mad knowing someone had touched those hips, _her_ hips, which were only _his_ to touch.

He stared at her wildly, lust filling his eyes. It was hard for him to order his thoughts calmly anymore. His cheeks were flushed.

“What are you doing here?” she said, her voice irritated and trying to maintain the distance she had imposed on them. Yet she seemed slightly intrigued at his appearance.

“You are sleeping with Torian,” he barely managed to exclaim in a constricted voice. Shock on her face, then realization, then irritation at hearing the matter for which he had come to her room.

“Hush, Theron, you’re making a scene. Lana needs me in the war room. Let me through and relax.” She was speaking calmly, irritated but not unkind. The hypocrisy of her comment was not lost on him; she was the queen of public scenes after all. But the use of his first name was enough to increase the frenzy in Theron’s mind and make him forget about everything else. 

For the first time he felt that connection with her again. The feeling that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. The realization that she had only been keeping her distance to protect herself, and not because she did not love him. It was almost enough to make him buckle at the knees. 

She made to step forward, but he quickly put his arm in front of her, hand resting against the doorframe, effectively blocking her way out of the room. Her eyes went from his arm to his face, her expression unreadable. 

“Let me through, Theron,” she said firmly, yet still not saying ‘agent Shan’, which encouraged him to stand his ground and stare into her purple eyes. 

“Do you love him?” he insisted, his voice a dangerous hiss. 

“No,” she said quickly, very quickly. Too invested for someone who had been claiming disinterest for weeks. “And he knows. A girl just needs to relax sometimes.” She winked at him, in a playful manner that stroke against everything Theron was feeling right now.

“But he stays the night,” he pressed on. “You have breakfast with him.” He didn’t know why that was important to him. Maybe it symbolized a form of domestic love that he thought she only shared with him.

A moment’s pause from the Commander. “Yes, he stays the night.” She cocked her eyebrows up in a challenging way.

“Are you planning to do more shouting?”

He was so angry that he couldn’t reply, but an immense attraction was quickly replacing it, or adding fuel to its fire, actually. His face must have reflected these feelings.

“Fine, get in here,” she said, grabbing his red jacket to pull him inside. The door swished shut behind them, hiding their conversation from any onlookers. But Theron wasn’t planning on allowing there to be much conversation. He needed to make her his own again, to show her that he hadn’t stopped thinking about her for one moment. 

Bella beckoned him to the sofa to talk, but he didn’t step further into the room. The closed door at his back, he was standing in the doorway. She had taken a step away from him, set her hands at her hips and looked fierce and ready to counter the anger of her former boyfriend. 

“Go on then, let’s hear-” she began, but he didn’t allow her to finish.

Taking a large stride forward, he curled his arm around her back, pulled her roughly towards him and snatched her lips with his mouth. He kissed her deeply, pressing her whole body against his. Tingling sensations of lust and excitement at her proximity spread throughout his body, down to his lower regions. He kissed her deeper than he ever had before, grabbing her neck roughly below her lekku to keep her head steady against the force behind the kiss. 

Bella returned his kiss. His hands brushed her tentacle and she gasped in his mouth, but did not pull back. Deep, bottled lust broke free in both of their bodies. Months of being apart and weeks of keeping their distance had fueled their need for each other. There was no room for subtlety or carefulness. 

Encouraged by the return of his passion and, frankly, unable to think anymore, Theron tightened the grip around her back to lift her a few inches of the ground. Rushed and hurried he dragged her to the wall, slamming her against it. The air was pressed from her lungs, leaving her breathless. He pinned her against the cold stone of the cave wall and started to roughly guide his kisses down from her mouth to her jaw and neck. 

“Theron, we need to-Ah!” she was interrupted by a gasp as he sucked a soft spot right above her collarbone, where the new scar made her skin thinner and more sensitive. 

“This won’t-” He kept bombarding her with kisses all over her neck, chest and mouth, sucking her skin and causing her to wriggle and gasp under his touch. His impatient fingers were peeling at her top, trying to find their way underneath the fabric. He didn’t want to hear what she was trying to say. He needed to feel her, caress her skin with his hands. Anything she could say would ruin the moment. 

She gave up trying to speak and returned the passion he was showering on her. Her one arm was pinned against the wall, with the free one she stroke his chest, squeezing the muscles underneath his shirt and edging him on. His arousal pressed against her hips and she grinded against him, cloth against cloth, while their kisses became deeper and more desperate.

As it turned out, someone else would ruin the moment. The sharp sound of Bella’s holocom beeping broke the tension in the room and put a stop to the passionate noises. Theron’s kisses paused for a moment, just a second or two. Long enough for Bella to regain her senses and push a hand against his chest, motioning for him to stop. She looked down from his face, resting her frowned forehead against his chin and breathing quickly. Theron’s one hand still pushed her firmly against the wall. 

“Don’t answer that,” he said in a voice that was almost pained from the interrupted intimacy. But more confident as well. He sounded like himself again.

“It’s Lana,” Bella said, but her voice too was filled with disappointment. She looked to the side, limited by the space Theron allowed between himself and the wall, but Bella did not try to move away from him. Raising the communication watch on her right arm, she pressed the button to open the call. 

“Yes?” she said through the receiver, and Theron discreetly moved his head to the side to avoid his heavy breathing to be recorded by the device.

“Commander, I still need you in the war room,” Lana’s voice echoed through the holo, her impatience clear. 

“Yes, I’m on my way, Lana,” Bella replied, straining to talk, but allowing her voice to be only slightly out of breath.

“You’re 10 minutes late already. Make it quick.”

Bella quickly ended the call and looked up at Theron’s face, unconsciously nuzzling his jaw with her nose.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she whispered in a dry voice.

For a moment, she leaned closer towards his mouth, letting her lips slightly brush his as if going in for another kiss. Then she quickly pulled back and broke through the grip that was holding her against the wall. 

Straightening her jacket and top, she hurried out of the room. Theron was left leaning against the wall with one arm, trying to catch his breath and calm his senses.


	7. Mornings and meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed this in-between chapter as a set-up for the following few. Sorry for the dull. These kind of chapters is where my writer's block kicks in.

His implant warned him to a schedule change, which drew Theron’s attention immediately. He sat up on the hard couch in his room, on which he had been restlessly lounging, and grabbed the datapad next to him to read the full message. It was an invitation to the war council meeting the next morning at 7:30. There was no accompanying note, simply the time block showing up in his schedule and a notification in his inbox. 

Sleeping with the boss was not his preferred way of getting back the rank he had lost within the Alliance (although actually it did sound like a very appealing option), but Theron couldn’t help but feel his encounter with the Commander this morning had something to do with the sudden invite. _Whatever, I’ll take it,_ he thought to himself, a giddy excitement taking hold of him. Instantly, he pulled up today’s reports and ran through them one more time to make sure he was up-to-date on all the important matters. Then he quickly changed to go to bed early. Although sleep would not come for a long time, he had to at least try to be as well-rested as possible for his big return in the morning.

\---

It was 10 past 7 when Theron entered the war room carrying two mugs of caf, his hair neatly stuck in his usual style. It was unusually early for him, but he wanted to be there before the Commander came in. Lana was already working, of course. These early morning meetings were her doing after all and definitely not the Commander’s choice; Bella was the worst morning person Theron had ever been acquainted with.

“Good morning, Theron,” Lana greeted him, as if it wasn’t 7 months ago that he had last attended a council meeting. 

“Morning, Lana,” he replied and looked around the familiar room. He hadn’t been banned from the room as such, but had very little to do there since his return. This was the first time he could appreciate the high-tech console, no longer controlling an Eternal Fleet, the cold air wafting through the room and the bright lighting coming from the ceiling. Home.

“Good to be back,” he said to Lana, hoping to elicit some sort of explanation for the sudden invite. 

“Hmhm,” Lana said ignoring his not so subtle hint, and continued to busily type into the console. A quick glance at the mugs he was carrying brought something of a smile to her face though. “I take it that one is not meant for me.” 

“Uh, no…” Theron said, color involuntarily shooting up to his face. “I know you prefer tea anyway.”

“I do,” said Lana, but the knowing look was undeniable.

“I’m surprised the Commander still allows a meeting at this hour. Before I left she wouldn’t show up half the time,” Theron chatted, happy to have the feeling of normal conversation with his old friend. Maybe this could be the start of some degree of normality in his life on Odessen. 

“That hasn’t changed,” Lana said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m sure she’ll attend this one.” A smile in his direction. “Glad to see your hair is growing out.” 

“Glad to see the green outfit stuck,” Theron replied, gesturing at the Sith's green attire. It was Bella’s favorite color on Lana, and for the red Twi’lek such seemingly little things carried a lot of weight. 

“I do what I can to please,” was the reply from said Sith. Then she stepped away from the console to give Theron space. “Make yourself useful and slice through this algorithm for me,” she demanded. 

Theron couldn’t be more willing to help, but replied cheekily: "Would you like some whipped cream on that slice, ma'am?"

Lana stared at him for two seconds, before turning away without replying.

He was two-thirds through the system when people started filing in the room. Surprised good mornings were sent his way, but no further questions asked to keep him from his work. The data Lana had tried to obtain had just finished downloading when the red Twi’lek that had been on his mind all night stepped into the room. 

She looked knackered, but Theron recognized it as her regular ‘I haven’t had two cups of coffee’-face. Color would return to those red cheeks after a good mug. He was about to grab the extra thermo he had brought for her from the console it had been waiting on, when her hands came into view. They were holding a steaming mug of black liquid, which was carefully brought up to her lips and sipped from. A satisfying sigh escaped the Commander, and Theron’s hand stayed inches from the mug he had brought for her.

Behind her walked Senya, her armor as ever unchanging, but her face cheerful and satisfied. She smiled widely at Theron and noticed the mug he had been reaching for. 

“Good to see you, Theron. Is that for me? Thank you very much,” she said, giving him a kind, motherly smile as she gently took the mug from before him. “I was just craving a good cup of caf.” 

“Naturally, Sen,” he replied, recovering himself from the momentary awkwardness. He wasn't sure if Senya was helping him save face or genuinely had a taste for coffee. His eyes, however, did not look at the Zakuulian but were fixed on the Commander who took her place on the other side of the console, directly across from him. Just when he thought she was purposefully ignoring him, she looked up at him and winked.

Warm flutters spread through his body and he quickly grabbed his own mug of caf to stop his hands from shaking. He had just enough wits about him to send a cheeky grin back at her, after which she quickly looked away. 

Relieved at having salvaged at least part of that situation, Theron hardly heard that Lana had begun to speak, making him completely miss the first minor agenda point of the day.

“I am meeting the Zakuulian prime minister next week. Will discuss it then,” was Bella’s answer to a question that Lana asked but Theron didn’t hear.

“Perfect, Commander. Then onto the topic of resources. A contact on Nar Shaddaa reached out to help in the challenge of our ever-dwindling stock of supplies,” Lana continued. 

“Who is it?” Hylo asked, her curiosity piqued at the mention of Nar Shaddaa. 

“The person is using a codename at the moment, but my hunch is it’s the spy Darmas Pollaran. I’m sure Theron will give a definite conclusion when he has a look at the case,” Lana replied. 

“Pollaran?!” Theron said, speaking up for the first time in the meeting at the mention of the Imperial agent.

“He escaped Republic prison during the war with Zakuul, no one has seen or heard from him since. He reached out to us using a known and unsecured frequency, so it doesn’t seem like he cares that we know who he is,” Lana explained in her patient, calm voice. 

“Is he still in Imperial service?” Theron asked, feeling himself comfortably slipping back into his old role.

“We don’t know,” Lana replied. “I’ve discreetly reached out to our Imperial liaison and they refused to confirm his activities. It does not seem like official Imperial business, more like he has gone rogue.” 

“I’ve never seen anyone go deeper undercover than Pollaran. He is not the kind of man to go rogue,” Theron said skeptically, but with a hint of admiration in his voice to his fellow intelligence expert.

“Let’s find out then. I will go to Nar Shaddaa. Shan can come with me. Darmas and I got on splendidly last time, up to when the scumbag betrayed me. It will be fun to catch up,” Bellar’oido said, one corner of her mouth curling up in a mischievous grin that was only too familiar to Theron. _Great, another one of her old flames_ , he thought to himself, but took it in stride after hearing that she wanted him to go with her.

“It would be unwise to expose yourself in public in the current uncertain political climate,” Senya threw in, the worst possible comment to give to the Alliance Commander, who would always aim to do the opposite of what was wise. Theron saw the words land in Bella’s mind, knew her response before she said it and smirked at himself for having seen it coming. 

“Perfect. I’m going.”


	8. We’ll take your shuttle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bella knows three communication tactics: ignoring, teasing, and flirting. Now that ignoring is out of the question...

“We’ll take your shuttle,” Bella said matter-of-factly. Theron nodded in reply, hurrying to catch up to her as she walked from the war room in the direction of her quarters.

“Don’t expect it to be clean,” he admitted, thinking of the bachelor pad his shuttle had been during his time in the Order of Zildrog. He hadn’t taken the time to properly clean out since he got back, although he would have had the free hours for it. It was just one of those jobs that kept being put off. C2-N2 had offered, naturally, but Theron had banned the droid off the shuttle. It was silly, but the vehicle had been the only thing connecting him to her in his time away and he was fond of it. Fond enough to not let the clean-greedy droid touch it.

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” Bella shot back in reply, a cheerful chuckle in her voice. _That’s a good sign_ , Theron thought at the indication of her good mood and he became increasingly excited about the mission. 

“I’ll change while you prep the shuttle,” she said, entering her room and closing the door behind her. For a brief second Theron wondered why she needed to change again, when it was 8 in the morning and she had just gotten dressed an hour ago, but he knew her too well to question any fashion choices. The brown and white bomber jacket she had been wearing was probably not right for Nar Shaddaa.

\---

The _right_ choice for Nar Shaddaa was revealed to him when he was hurriedly cleaning up half-eaten grain bars from the console of the shuttle. Bella appeared behind him with a happy “ready!”. 

Theron turned around and stopped breathing as he gazed at a familiar bandeau top. The khaki colored cloth covered only her breasts, leaving her belly and shoulders unmercifully exposed. A skintight, black legging stuck to her legs and made them seem even longer than they were. They ended in a low cut on her hips, where a large belt separated the leather from her skin. 

It was the outfit she had worn when she went to Darth Marr. He had seen it on a holocall only minutes before she left to the Imperial ship. He remembered, clear as if it was yesterday. She had called him on a whim, under the pretense of updating him on the call by Darth Marr, but actually just to see him stutter at her outfit. She had teased him for his prudence, said she was going to wear it on her visit to the Sith, knowing it would wind him up. He had hung up the call feeling aroused and jealous, as she so often managed to make him feel. He had often wondered afterwards why he hadn't urged her not to go to the ship without him. But her tantalizing way had made her absence his more immediate problem.

“You’re not wearing _that_?!” slipped out of his mouth at the sight of her belly button.

“Don’t worry, Shan. I’ve got a jacket!” She procured an equally black leather jacket and pulled it on over the top. It covered her bare shoulders, but hanging open at the front did not nothing to hide the red skin of her belly and chest. Her face looked triumphant.

“Great! Are you going to zip it up?” he said, his voice dry and his trousers seeming a little tighter than they were just a minute earlier.

“Why would I do that?” she said innocently, and skipped past him into the co-pilot’s chair.

“Oh, almost forgot. I got this for you to wear,” and she held out a brown, long-sleeved shirt with black shoulder pads. “The red jacket is way too obvious. You need to blend in, you know.” 

“ _I_ need to blend in?” he muttered, but took the shirt from her. It wasn’t a bad choice, if he was completely fair. It could have been something he picked out himself. Hiding in the back of the small shuttle, he shifted out of the red jacket, carefully hanging it on a hook attached to the wall. Then he took off his short-sleeved shirt to replace it with the one Bella had given him. 

She was sitting with her back towards him in the chair, but he was very aware of how close she was, and that he was now standing bare-chested behind her. The thought of what he could have done in this moment before he betrayed her trust made his trousers tighten more painfully. _Focus, Theron_ , he told himself and tried to get his breathing under control. Not fast enough.

“Done?” Bella said, turning the chair around and catching a glimpse of his muscled torso before it disappeared under the fabric of the shirt. Her eyes lingered, assessing the new look all the way down to the bulging below his belt.

“Nice,” she said with the unmistakable hint of a satisfied smile, and turned back, tapping coordinates in the console in front of her. “Let’s go then.”


	9. We haven't really talked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron and Bella are together in a shuttle, so no better time to finally have 'the talk'.

The shuttle left orbit and drifted through the vast darkness of space for a few minutes before it could make the jump to hyperspace. Theron sat in the co-pilot chair of his own shuttle (with Bella the question of who was flying was never asked). His eyes kept darting to the exposed red skin of the Twi’lek sitting next to him. It would be soft to the touch and warm: She was very rarely cold. He could picture his rough hands stroking that skin, working their way down below, his lips kissing her navel and feeling her squirm under his touch. Bellar’oido may be Commander of the Eternal Alliance, in the bedroom she was always just Bella, and completely at his mercy.

The bulge under his belt throbbed and Theron quickly forced himself to change the train of thought he was on. He hadn’t been able to calm down properly since they left Odessen. Fortunately, the broad safety belt hid the growing size of the troublesome lower area, but the light flush on Bella’s cheekbones was all too familiar to him: she knew exactly what was going on.

As the shuttle made the jump to hyperspace, Theron’s eyes were fixed on the stars shooting past him, and his breathing steadied. Until her voice broke his concentration.

“It will be a few hours. Fancy a drink?”

He nodded quickly, uncomfortably, and cursed himself for not keeping his cool. Why did he keep being so on edge around her? She preferred her man decisive and calm.

“I’ll make some tea. Trying to cut down on the morning drinking,” she said, her eyes meeting his as she stood up.

“Can't relate,” he murmured, thinking about the whiskey's before lunch that were becoming way too much of a habit for him.

“Sure,” she replied. The mischievous twinkle from earlier was still visible in her eyes, but also something else.

Was it apprehension? Why did she bring him along on this trip if she felt uncomfortable about it? _Because you can’t go on without having that conversation_ , his mind filled in for him.

“Can we talk?” he said, as she poured hot water from the instant-boiler into two mugs.

“We’re talking,” she replied, her voice strained.

“I mean can we talk about… us. About Umbara. About Torian. We haven’t really… talked.” It took some effort, but he got himself through the sentence. Bella didn’t immediately reply but returned with the steaming mugs. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed him one, but she wouldn’t be Bella, Alliance Commander, if she immediately opened up her feelings to him. There were walls to break down, new walls that had been rebuilt since Theron left.

“Last time I _tried_ to have a conversation, it was suddenly cut off,” she finally said, a flush creeping up her neck and darkening the red that was so visible because of her outfit. “Not my fault.”

Theron chuckled, pretending his loins were not on fire at the mention of their frantic encounter. “Yeah, that one was on me,” he said, leaning forward in the chair. They were close, so close he could see the flaky red make-up that was meant to hide the bags under her eyes. She smiled at him with her mouth closed and did not laugh. Her purple eyes turned gloomy, although Theron could see she tried to hide it. Tension mounted in the small shuttle as the stars flew by. The only sound was the hum of engines.

“I never really said I am sorry.” His voice cut through the shuttle, although it was almost a whisper. “I keep saying I did it to protect you. But when I saw the bounty you put on me, how hurt you looked in that holo, I knew I messed up. Every night since I left I’ve had the same nightmare. You’re walking away- and no matter how fast I run, I can’t catch up. Leaving you there on Umbara… It destroyed me. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I did.”

He stopped with a sigh, hoping to have her interject with some feedback on her feelings. But Bella was looking down at the steaming mug around which she had wrapped her hands tightly and did not reply. A cold feeling tightened around his heart seeing her in pain and he almost grabbed her hand, but fear of ruining the communication they finally had going froze his movement.

“I know things haven’t been as they were before," he continued. "And I have no right to expect that we are able to return to how it was then. But do you think you can give your idiot ex-boyfriend another chance?”

He tried to catch her gaze, but she stubbornly avoided looking at him and sat back in the pilot’s chair. It was a movement to create distance between them and usually a sign that she was getting ready to pull up another wall. He couldn’t let that happen, so he quickly unbuckled the safety belt that was strapping him to the seat and moved closer towards her. At the risk of her pulling away, he lay his cold hand around her warm one and supported the heavy mug of tea she was holding.

The touch startled her, and involuntarily her eyes shot up, locking on his so he could read the fear that was writing on the purple linings. Never had she looked at him that way. They had screamed at each other, rowed on a daily basis, called each other names and made rough love after, but never had she looked at him as if she was afraid. It was always defiance, anger, stubbornness he read in her eyes, never fear.

“Are you afraid of me?” he said, his voice dripping with shock and grief.

“Not you,” she said quickly.

“Then what?” he urged her on, not impatiently. More like desperately.

“I’m afraid of… losing you.” A sob rose up from her throat and stopped her from saying more. Theron’s heart breaking, he quickly took the mug from her hands, which she let go of willingly, and put it on the dashboard. Then he moved closer to her for an embrace, wanting nothing more than to hold her, protect her, and give her the promise that she would never _ever_ lose him again. But she dodged his embrace and stood up from the chair.

“At the same time, I’m afraid of letting you back in. I trusted you completely, Theron. I trusted you more than myself. When you betrayed me… I hadn’t seen it coming and I believed it. It made me question everything. My trust in Hylo, Lana, and especially my trust in myself. You made it impossible for me to trust anyone ever again… So I’ve been doing everything to cut you out. I’ve worked my ass off for Zakuul, I’ve been drinking a lot. And lately, Torian…”

A hot flash of jealousy and anger shot through Theron’s stomach at the mention of the man who had been filling his empty space in Bella’s bed, but he pushed it down to avoid the anger showing on his face. “He was attractive and kind to me, but Torian knew there was no real place for him in my heart. That I couldn't trust him with my feelings. When you came by yesterday morning, I had just told him it had to stop. He wasn’t even surprised…”

She had put the chair between them, leaning on the back and looking at him wistfully. “I betrayed you with him. I suppose I’ve done just as much to make you stop trusting me as you have to me.”

“I never stopped trusting you,” Theron said quickly and resolutely, hoping it would reassure her. But she shook her pretty head, the striped lekku brushing against the black leather jacket.

“Then why is it so damn hard for me to trust _you_? I should have never believed you when you said you tried to end the Alliance. I should have known you would never betray me. I should’ve…” She was speechless for a moment and Theron didn’t know what to say in comfort. His mind was racing fast to put the dots together, but the answer to the riddle came out of her mouth before his own mind had computed it.

“You deserve someone who trusts you no matter what.”

Finally the events of the last months fell into place. Her anger at him on the holo had been genuine, but upon finding out that he had done it all for her and the Alliance it had shifted into anger at herself and her inability to trust him unconditionally. She was disappointed in herself and in an attempt to keep those feelings away she had ignored him and been angry at him.

When they had first met, she would put the blame of every failure with someone else. He never believed she was genuinely conceited, but she was definitely quick to pass blame to others to make herself look better. As the responsibility on her shoulders grew heavier and more lives depended on her decisions, he had slowly seen a change in her. More and more, the proud smuggler would blame herself for the lives that were lost and mistakes that were made. When Vette had died, something had broken inside the Twi'lek's soul and it had taken a long time before he had been able to really understand how deep that guilt went. Now she had done exactly the same, blaming herself for the situation he created, because she hadn't trusted him enough. The guilt had been eating her up and he hadn't been there to talk it away. She must have been so lonely. The clenching feeling around his heart hurt terribly.  

“Bell-” Theron began, but he could see time was running out and the walls around her heart were pulling up again as she grew tired of talking. Her hands grabbed the mug of cooling tea from the console, holding it in front of her as a weapon so he couldn’t come near. The tear that was rolling down her cheek was wiped away by a quick hand and she looked away from him. But he wasn’t going to let this be all that would be said or done between them. Quickly, he moved towards her and pulled her into a tight embrace. The tea almost spilled over the edges of the mug as her small frame disappeared between his broad arms. Her bare skin pressed against his thin, brown shirt.

“Bell, _I_ trust you no matter what. Even if you don’t trust me or yourself, that will always be true. Nothing else matters.” His embrace grew tighter as he felt her tears soak through the fabric on his shoulder. His hand was holding her neck protectively at the warm spot between her lekku. He could feel her shoulders relax against him. Her nose rested against the familiar spot of his chest. It felt so usual, yet so extraordinary.

Her muffled voice sounded against his chest: “Trust that if you ever leave again I will tie your balls to an airlock and open it in deep space.”

Theron chuckled at the old Bella that shone through the tears. “No doubt about it.”


	10. City slicker

“So this Darmas guy,” Theron began. They were sitting next to each other in the pilot and co-pilot seats, although there was no need to steer the ship while it was riding the hyperlanes. They were on their third cup of tea and things had started to quiet down in the shuttle after their heated conversation.

“Don’t call him ‘Darmas Guy’, you know exactly who he is,” Bella interjected. She was right. Darmas Pollaran was one of the top spies of the former Sith Empire, so Theron had had reasonable cause on several occasions in the past to familiarize himself with the man’s file. It wasn’t a thick file, which generally meant the person was either not very interesting or very good at hiding it. Considering Pollaran’s reputation, it was definitely the latter.

“I know who he is,” Theron admitted. “I don’t know who he is to _you_.”

“Ah, Darmas. Let’s just say we had a few _steamy_ sabacc matches before he stabbed me in the back and we became less friendly,” was the suggestive answer.

An unpleasant vision of Bella with a faceless (the file contained no pictures) man, making love in a shabby cantina drifted through Theron’s mind. He did not want to know, but he needed to know and couldn’t stop his mouth from asking: “Did you at least win the sabacc?” 

Bella turned her head to look at him, her eyes carrying that mischievous twinkle he knew only too well. “I definitely didn’t consider myself a loser.” And Theron cursed himself for even asking.

“So what’s the plan? You think he’s still working for the Empire?”

“Yes,” she responded resolutely. “So they probably want something done but can’t ask for it directly, considering the… delicate political situation of the Alliance. My plan is to play along, for a while at least, until we figure out what it is and whether it’s good for the Alliance. God knows we need those resources. I brought you, because I need you to read him, figure out if he’s telling lies. You know, spy to spy.”

“Takes one to know one,” Theron responded, cheerful at the fact she valued his skills. “We’re almost at Nar Shaddaa. I’ll set up a cover story for the docks.”

 

\---

 

Less than an hour later, they stepped out of the shuttle onto Bella’s favorite soil. A customs officer came to meet them and Theron cringed inwardly at the lack of clothes on the woman he loved. He could see the eyes of the officer hover over the naked belly button, the khaki top and the hips in tight leather pants. She was wearing her usual facemask, which she always wore outside of Odessen. It covered her nose and mouth with brown cloth, fortified with steel edges. On her head a pilot’s hat with goggles, which he had only ever seen her wear on her eyes when they were trudging through the snow on Hoth. Every other moment it was resting just above her forehead, making her look like a kid playing pilot. He adored this look on her. It made her look childish and bad ass at the same time. And the cloth of the mask rested on her shoulders, shielding some of the naked skin from view, which was also a plus.

No comment was made by the officer. The man had seen much worse on Nar Shaddaa, no doubt. He let them through without trouble, seeing them as simple merchants, rather than the Commander of the Eternal Alliance and her chief spy.

“Want to get lunch before we go?” she asked as they walked through the sliding doors onto the elevator bringing them to Nar Shaddaa’s main center. Her voice sounded slightly muffled through the fabric of the mask.

“Alright then. I know you’ve been dying for a Hungry Hutt sandwich,” he replied. She hadn’t told him such in words, but it was the one thing she would always order whenever their missions brought them close to Nar Shaddaa.

“Hahaha, very true,” she laughed back at him. “Lana ordered the cantina stuff to make me one a couple of months back. She was trying to cheer me up. It was nice, but nothing to the real thing. I guess Gorg eggs are really hard to come by so far away from Naboo.”

Theron’s imagination pictured him Lana trying everything she could to restore her Commander to her old self after Umbara. Shouting at the kitchen staff to make a Hungry Hutt no matter the cost, wearing green herself whenever she could, possibly coaxing Torian into spending the night with Bella when she saw there was an attraction there. He owed her (maybe not for that last bit), and he’d never properly thanked her. He made a note via his implant to do just that as soon as they were back. First he would make his Commander happy with a _real_ Hutt sandwich.

 

\---

 

“Don’t say a word,” Bella hissed at him. They were standing a rundown cantina at the coordinates they had received. It was off the beaten track. So far off, in fact, that even Bella, who had lived half her life in the back streets of Nar Shaddaa, had never been there before. At his nod, she stepped through the sliding doors, her hips swaying slightly more than they had done a minute before. Theron swallowed.

“Nice place you got here, Darmas,” Bella said, scanning the surroundings quickly for anything that could be used to her advantage. That was a trick Theron hadn’t had to teach her, she had been well practiced in it from her smuggler’s expertise. The place itself wasn’t particularly nice. The tapestry on the walls was yellowed from the smoke of the cantina’s customers and Theron didn’t dare to venture a guess when the tables had last had a wipe.

“Bella Roido!” the man replied, pronouncing her name in Common with emphasis on every syllable. “I can’t express how lovely it is to see such a stunning woman rise to the top. You know I’ve always said we need more women in power in this world.”

“Good to see you here, Darmas,” Bella replied, her voice sharp, “and not rotting away in a Republic prison.”

“Jail life never suited me, dear. Not enough chances for seeing… ah, beautiful women like yourself,” the man said in his sugar coated voice. “My apologies for the cover story. In my position I can’t be too careful.”

Jealousy had never been a preferred attitude for Theron. And his training allowed him to hide it far away behind a mask of unfazed calmness. But still he wasted no time to step into the room from behind the Commander and locking eyes with Pollaran, effectively steering the topic away from Bella.

“This the new bae? I see you’ve exchanged farmer boy for a city slicker,” Darmas said in a sly, charming way.

“You’re a city slicker yourself, Darmas,” Bella replied, but the tone of her voice told Theron she was not in the least offended or bothered by the insult towards him or Corso. How typically Bella.

“Yes, I am, doll. And I applied for the job of being _your_ city slicker, but I got rejected,” he said in a quasi-sad voice.

“Betraying a girl tends to have that effect,” Bella replied in a low and tantalizing voice.

“Ah, but how much more satisfying it will be to kiss and make up,” Pollaran threw back, a wink on his face. Theron felt the man’s eyes hover over his face and instantly knew Darmas knew exactly who was in front of him.

“At least farmer boy had the courtesy to look jealous,” the man chuckled arrogantly, and turning back to Bella: “Why don’t we play a round of _sabacc_?”


End file.
